A "normal" family has 2.5 children.
If you ever meet 1/2 of a person, you will know that he came from a normal family.
Of course normality is an abstract concept, meaning it doesn't exist, except in our minds. And since different people think differently, different definitions exist for the concept of "normal."
If we treat things that are above 50% in surveys as normal, then it is normal to be divorced, to be female, and to have watched porn on the internet. Voting, on the other hand, is not normal because less than 50% of the population votes, even for presidential elections.
However, normal is most often used as an arbitrary ideal that society should strive for, i.e. it is "normal" to be a virgin until married, it is "normal" to be satisfied with one's lot in life, etc. Under this definition, a behavior could still be considered "normal" even if 0% of the population actually engaged in that behavior.
Also, the people society chooses to honor and celebrate are those who are extraordinary and outside the norm: Mother Teresa, George Washington, Jesus of Nazareth, etc.
In other words, if "Normal" actually exists, it is not something one should aspire to be.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Plein Air Painting
or however you spell that.
So, the Smithfield Plein Air thing was cool. Not very organized. Basically I went into the arts center, told them I was going to paint, and then wandered outside to find a good spot. They gave me directions to the Windsor Castle Park, which were apparently driving directions, because I made the first turn and the sidewalk disappeared. Being undeterred, as I am a lone wolf who eats danger for breakfast, I kept walking on the side of the road and stumbled upon this picturesque spot:
Gorgeous, really. And I never would have even seen it if I had been driving by. I hopped over whatever you call that metal fence thing on the side of the road and plopped my folding chain right down into nature. It was really nice, seeing the leaves sparkle and the light change. Every once in awhile a nut would fall out of a tree or something would scamper through a bush. You know - nature stuff.
The "palette" I used was an old plastic plate that still had some dried watercolors stuck to it from the last time I'd been painting. I actually used those watercolors to make this piece (plus some yellow acrylic):
The turtle was a late addition. He popped his head out as I was waiting for the paint to dry, and I had to put him in. Then I shoved my supplies back into my Wal-Mart shopping bag, slung the folded chair over my shoulder, and went down the road again.
For a mile. In the sun. By the way, you know you're in the country when your directions say "continue until the road comes to a dead end." But I was determined to press forward. Plus, I had my Gatorade and my plucky obliviousness to my own ridiculous appearance, as I walked down a country road wearing a jacket hung with framed art and a fedora. The fedora turned out to be the best accessory of the day, as it kept the sun off me until I could find a patch of shade to hide in, like the shadow of a tree where I painted someone's backyard:
And their disused shed. There was a horse by the shed originally. A horse which immediately moseyed elsewhere once I got myself set up. But I did get this piece done, and I had a nice conversation with a woman who was out for a walk. The only thing friendlier to me than that woman was the spider I found on my lap not once, not twice, but three times as I was painting here. I gingerly picked up my shirt and blew him off each time, suppressing my childhood response of jerking back, seizure-like, while uncontrollably flailing my arms and yelping "Gah!" and/or "Mother******!"
But I definately got the hint the third time and finished the painting standing up before quickly moving on.
This piece was painted on the Windsor Castle Park trail, which was pretty. This is the most abstract piece I did, but if you want to find the spot yourself, it's the picturesque place right across from the Port-o-Potty. I'm sorry, I meant "Restroom Facilities." That's what it says on the brochure.
After winding through the park, I decided to head towards my car so I could go home and walk my sister's dog. Yes, my sister's dog - I call him that because she is the one who begged my parents for a solid year to get a dog. And she is the one who made Obama-like promises that she would walk the dog and feed the dog and teach it to read Braille all by herself. So as I was saying, I was planning to go home and walk my sister's dog while she was at work, not walking him, when I realized that it was noon and I was wearing a jacket and a black hat.
I found the first shade I could - luckily there was a big tree in front of Windsor Castle:
...otherwise, you'd be seeing a drawing of a laundromat, or an empty sidewalk. My mom quite liked this drawing.
And then I came back, and saw Mallory. Well actually, her mom saw me as I was staring off into space. I mean, contemplating artistic things.
It's kind of funny - I always find it amusing when I read art history books that glamorize the social lives of artists. Oh, what pivotal shifts of artistic thought occurred while Jackson Pollock and de Kooning debated art theory at that bar they used to go to. Really? A bunch of artists hanging out at a bar is a "turning point" in art?
Me and Mallory have hung out at a couple of shows. Are we an alliance? Have we had a "dramatic influence" on each other's work?
Tell you what - we both do digital stuff. We're both interested in pop or "low" culture. I declare that we are part of the burgeoning "LO FI" movement! Can we get half a sentence in an art history book now? Don't make me write a manifesto. When else am I going to use that crap I learned in Art Crit?
But yeah, the Plein Air thing was really good. I am completely satisfied with how it turned out.
And that satisfaction is in no way dampened by the fact that I woke up the next day with roughly a bazillion chigger bites. Which is apparently (obviously) what happens to you when you go tromping through the woods all day, setting down your folding chair wherever you darn well please. I'd show you a picture, but the internet already has enough images of mysterious rashes. It's not that bad, anyway... it's just another reminder that every time I commune with nature,
Nature tries to kill me.
So, the Smithfield Plein Air thing was cool. Not very organized. Basically I went into the arts center, told them I was going to paint, and then wandered outside to find a good spot. They gave me directions to the Windsor Castle Park, which were apparently driving directions, because I made the first turn and the sidewalk disappeared. Being undeterred, as I am a lone wolf who eats danger for breakfast, I kept walking on the side of the road and stumbled upon this picturesque spot:
Gorgeous, really. And I never would have even seen it if I had been driving by. I hopped over whatever you call that metal fence thing on the side of the road and plopped my folding chain right down into nature. It was really nice, seeing the leaves sparkle and the light change. Every once in awhile a nut would fall out of a tree or something would scamper through a bush. You know - nature stuff.
The "palette" I used was an old plastic plate that still had some dried watercolors stuck to it from the last time I'd been painting. I actually used those watercolors to make this piece (plus some yellow acrylic):
The turtle was a late addition. He popped his head out as I was waiting for the paint to dry, and I had to put him in. Then I shoved my supplies back into my Wal-Mart shopping bag, slung the folded chair over my shoulder, and went down the road again.
For a mile. In the sun. By the way, you know you're in the country when your directions say "continue until the road comes to a dead end." But I was determined to press forward. Plus, I had my Gatorade and my plucky obliviousness to my own ridiculous appearance, as I walked down a country road wearing a jacket hung with framed art and a fedora. The fedora turned out to be the best accessory of the day, as it kept the sun off me until I could find a patch of shade to hide in, like the shadow of a tree where I painted someone's backyard:
And their disused shed. There was a horse by the shed originally. A horse which immediately moseyed elsewhere once I got myself set up. But I did get this piece done, and I had a nice conversation with a woman who was out for a walk. The only thing friendlier to me than that woman was the spider I found on my lap not once, not twice, but three times as I was painting here. I gingerly picked up my shirt and blew him off each time, suppressing my childhood response of jerking back, seizure-like, while uncontrollably flailing my arms and yelping "Gah!" and/or "Mother******!"
But I definately got the hint the third time and finished the painting standing up before quickly moving on.
This piece was painted on the Windsor Castle Park trail, which was pretty. This is the most abstract piece I did, but if you want to find the spot yourself, it's the picturesque place right across from the Port-o-Potty. I'm sorry, I meant "Restroom Facilities." That's what it says on the brochure.
After winding through the park, I decided to head towards my car so I could go home and walk my sister's dog. Yes, my sister's dog - I call him that because she is the one who begged my parents for a solid year to get a dog. And she is the one who made Obama-like promises that she would walk the dog and feed the dog and teach it to read Braille all by herself. So as I was saying, I was planning to go home and walk my sister's dog while she was at work, not walking him, when I realized that it was noon and I was wearing a jacket and a black hat.
I found the first shade I could - luckily there was a big tree in front of Windsor Castle:
...otherwise, you'd be seeing a drawing of a laundromat, or an empty sidewalk. My mom quite liked this drawing.
And then I came back, and saw Mallory. Well actually, her mom saw me as I was staring off into space. I mean, contemplating artistic things.
It's kind of funny - I always find it amusing when I read art history books that glamorize the social lives of artists. Oh, what pivotal shifts of artistic thought occurred while Jackson Pollock and de Kooning debated art theory at that bar they used to go to. Really? A bunch of artists hanging out at a bar is a "turning point" in art?
Me and Mallory have hung out at a couple of shows. Are we an alliance? Have we had a "dramatic influence" on each other's work?
Tell you what - we both do digital stuff. We're both interested in pop or "low" culture. I declare that we are part of the burgeoning "LO FI" movement! Can we get half a sentence in an art history book now? Don't make me write a manifesto. When else am I going to use that crap I learned in Art Crit?
But yeah, the Plein Air thing was really good. I am completely satisfied with how it turned out.
And that satisfaction is in no way dampened by the fact that I woke up the next day with roughly a bazillion chigger bites. Which is apparently (obviously) what happens to you when you go tromping through the woods all day, setting down your folding chair wherever you darn well please. I'd show you a picture, but the internet already has enough images of mysterious rashes. It's not that bad, anyway... it's just another reminder that every time I commune with nature,
Nature tries to kill me.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
The Chalking of Ghent
Sounds like an old-timey disaster. "The Great Ghent Chalking of 2010. Several died."
But I went there, and it was awesome.
It was interesting to see how the event progressed. I got there a little after it started to find a few isolated pieces like this:
And walked away seeing patches like this:
It was mostly parents with their kids chalking it up, which was cool. Although there were a few full-grown women playing hopscotch.
I parked at the Chrysler, because I like to walk. A statement I must now amend to "I like to walk when it's not noon in the summertime."
My first and last contributions shared a theme:
The one on the right has an accordion!
The eleven-year-old girl drawing next to me asked me what she should draw. I suggested a bunny:
She told me she draws her signature smiley faces for classmates for 50 cents a pop. That's more than I've been making for my art recently. /bitter
It's interesting to see what messages pop up when you give people the chance to express themselves:
The one on the left says "Keep our beach clean," and the one on the right is a drawing of a washing machine that was on the sidewalk in front of a laundromat. So, we have environmentalism and crass commercialism sharing the same concrete. Speaking of free speech:
Graffiti. It's never too early to get the kids hooked on it.
Wren, AKA "The Best" and Bess AKA "Cool" had a few tags up on the streetz. Next stop: smokin' weed and wearing eighties t-shirts ironically.
Left: a fire escape.
Middle: my lame drawing of said fire escape.
Right: the two juxtaposed together. Photo taken while crossing a busy street because I am a dangerous rebel omg.
Another site-specific chalk drawing of mine. The pic on left is just after I finished, and the pic on right is about an hour later. I did a few of these, but didn't get pictures of all of them because I was saving my memory card for all the pieces done by 5-year-olds that were more creative than mine.
Proof that I am not a communist.
Someone else is funnier than me.
Also - can you tell the difference between a Death Star and a pig?
They're surprisingly similar. Except pigs apparently have seven legs.
Finally: wtf, is that Zoidberg??? lol.
I wore my art jacket, so I got a couple of compliments and a lot of weird looks. A nice young woman tried to talk to me while I was tracing a shadow with chalk:
"Hey, I like your pictures!"
"Thanks!"
End of conversation.
It didn't even occur to me that I had old business cards in my pocket. I could've been all... if you like my drawings, I am on the internet! All the time. Watching you.
But instead I blanked. Marketing's just not in my blood. Neither is social interaction. Baby steps.
But I went there, and it was awesome.
It was interesting to see how the event progressed. I got there a little after it started to find a few isolated pieces like this:
And walked away seeing patches like this:
It was mostly parents with their kids chalking it up, which was cool. Although there were a few full-grown women playing hopscotch.
I parked at the Chrysler, because I like to walk. A statement I must now amend to "I like to walk when it's not noon in the summertime."
My first and last contributions shared a theme:
The one on the right has an accordion!
The eleven-year-old girl drawing next to me asked me what she should draw. I suggested a bunny:
She told me she draws her signature smiley faces for classmates for 50 cents a pop. That's more than I've been making for my art recently. /bitter
It's interesting to see what messages pop up when you give people the chance to express themselves:
The one on the left says "Keep our beach clean," and the one on the right is a drawing of a washing machine that was on the sidewalk in front of a laundromat. So, we have environmentalism and crass commercialism sharing the same concrete. Speaking of free speech:
Graffiti. It's never too early to get the kids hooked on it.
Wren, AKA "The Best" and Bess AKA "Cool" had a few tags up on the streetz. Next stop: smokin' weed and wearing eighties t-shirts ironically.
Left: a fire escape.
Middle: my lame drawing of said fire escape.
Right: the two juxtaposed together. Photo taken while crossing a busy street because I am a dangerous rebel omg.
Another site-specific chalk drawing of mine. The pic on left is just after I finished, and the pic on right is about an hour later. I did a few of these, but didn't get pictures of all of them because I was saving my memory card for all the pieces done by 5-year-olds that were more creative than mine.
Proof that I am not a communist.
Someone else is funnier than me.
Also - can you tell the difference between a Death Star and a pig?
They're surprisingly similar. Except pigs apparently have seven legs.
Finally: wtf, is that Zoidberg??? lol.
I wore my art jacket, so I got a couple of compliments and a lot of weird looks. A nice young woman tried to talk to me while I was tracing a shadow with chalk:
"Hey, I like your pictures!"
"Thanks!"
End of conversation.
It didn't even occur to me that I had old business cards in my pocket. I could've been all... if you like my drawings, I am on the internet! All the time. Watching you.
But instead I blanked. Marketing's just not in my blood. Neither is social interaction. Baby steps.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
First Stop: Casa de Awesome
I don't think I've mentioned it on this blog before , which proves how much I suck at blogging, but I've been working on a special project. So, uh, surprise!
It's a white trash gallery! I set up some wire loops inside my car so I can hang up paintings whenever I park.
Whoa, how'd that picture get in there? Moving on.
The very first place I took my traveling exhibit was the home of my fellow art conspirator, Mallory. (*cough* http://ThatsWhatSheSaidArt.com *cough*)
She was so pleased, she let me take another cheesy photo with her:
From left: me, signified, signifier. If you don't get that joke, don't worry. It means you didn't loseyour soul a semester of your life to Art Crit.
What's that, voice in my head? You want to see a closeup of the piece I gave Mallory for our art trade? Well, here you go:
(caption unnecessary due to awesomeness)
And here's a sooper secret sneak peak at my first rough draft of the piece.
I still like the idea of overlaying text right on someone's face. Very graphic designy. Designery.
It looks pretty.
In return for my piece, I requested a collage of Jesus playing croquet with Darwin and a monkey. I am whimsical.
Also: this thing looks so much better in real life. Not trying to make you jealous or anything. Just sayin'.
We hung out and chatted for a long time. Well, by my standards. It was energizing to talk to someone who has, like, goals and stuff. And actively tries to reach said goals. I was actually inspired to work on my own stuff afterwards.
...to a point.
Oh, and I asked her if she'd be willing to pose for a photo comic I vaguely had an intention of doing. Crap, now I've said it out loud.
Now I actually have to do it.
Oh yeah, and here are some closeups of two of my traveling exhibit pieces, if my Museum on Wheels fails to invade your locale:
At first, I thought I made this chick look too much like a dude. But then I painted some more and I think it's okay. Not that it wouldn't be okay if I left it all ambiguous. That'd be cool too.
This is an octopus. Its gender is undefined.
I experimented with gesso on the background, and now I am hooked.
Thanks, Mallory. Thanks a lot.
It's a white trash gallery! I set up some wire loops inside my car so I can hang up paintings whenever I park.
Whoa, how'd that picture get in there? Moving on.
The very first place I took my traveling exhibit was the home of my fellow art conspirator, Mallory. (*cough* http://ThatsWhatSheSaidArt.com *cough*)
She was so pleased, she let me take another cheesy photo with her:
From left: me, signified, signifier. If you don't get that joke, don't worry. It means you didn't lose
What's that, voice in my head? You want to see a closeup of the piece I gave Mallory for our art trade? Well, here you go:
(caption unnecessary due to awesomeness)
And here's a sooper secret sneak peak at my first rough draft of the piece.
I still like the idea of overlaying text right on someone's face. Very graphic designy. Designery.
It looks pretty.
In return for my piece, I requested a collage of Jesus playing croquet with Darwin and a monkey. I am whimsical.
Also: this thing looks so much better in real life. Not trying to make you jealous or anything. Just sayin'.
We hung out and chatted for a long time. Well, by my standards. It was energizing to talk to someone who has, like, goals and stuff. And actively tries to reach said goals. I was actually inspired to work on my own stuff afterwards.
...to a point.
Oh, and I asked her if she'd be willing to pose for a photo comic I vaguely had an intention of doing. Crap, now I've said it out loud.
Now I actually have to do it.
Oh yeah, and here are some closeups of two of my traveling exhibit pieces, if my Museum on Wheels fails to invade your locale:
At first, I thought I made this chick look too much like a dude. But then I painted some more and I think it's okay. Not that it wouldn't be okay if I left it all ambiguous. That'd be cool too.
This is an octopus. Its gender is undefined.
I experimented with gesso on the background, and now I am hooked.
Thanks, Mallory. Thanks a lot.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)